When We Touch (Whiskey Creek 0.5)(18)
Author: Brenda Novak

She groaned. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He laughed softly. “Don’t trust it. Considering what you do to me, I have only evil intentions.”

“Would it make you any less of a villain to lie down with me?”

“I suppose that wouldn’t hurt my reputation too much,” he said wryly and scooted in beside her.

With his shoulder as her pillow and his fingers moving gently through her hair, she felt oddly content as she drifted off.

*

A screech woke Brandon from a dead sleep. One look at Olivia, blinking awake next to him, told him she hadn’t made that sound. She was as startled as he was. So what—

Then the sound came again—”O-li-via!”—and he realized what was going on. “Shit! The rehearsal dinner!”

Olivia was already scrambling off the bed, but she didn’t have a chance to speak before Noelle started screaming again.

“I know you’re in there, damn you!” She banged on the door. “How could you? How could you do this to me?”

“What time is it?” Olivia cried.

“Nearly eight.”

Her face went pale. “Oh, God! I overslept.”

Brandon felt terrible. “I’m sorry. I never intended to fall asleep. I just shut my eyes for a minute.”

She rubbed her face as if trying to get her bearings. “We have to go.”

Galvanized into action, he hopped out of bed. “You go change. I’ll answer the door.”

“No, I’ll answer. She’s so upset there’s no telling what she might say.”

“Exactly.” He gave her a little push. “Better if she says it to me. She can’t hurt me, and it might blow off some of the steam. Get ready.”

Although reluctant to let him handle her temperamental sister, she seemed to understand the urgency of showing up at the dinner party—where the rest of the wedding party was waiting for them.

“I’ve got it,” he assured her, and she hurried into the bathroom.

“Olivia!” Noelle yelled.

He opened the door before she could knock again.

She immediately stepped back so she could look up at him. “Where’s my sister?”

“Getting ready. You can head back. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“You’ll be there? Why weren’t you there an hour ago?”

He stepped out and closed the door so that Olivia wouldn’t have to hear this. “We fell asleep, okay? I’m sorry about that—”

“You’re not sorry for anything!” She looked a little crazed with her hair falling out of whatever was holding it up. “You’re busy banging my sister when it’s supposed to be my turn!”

Knowing she couldn’t have meant that quite the way it sounded, he raised his eyebrows, giving her a chance to clarify.

“To have what I want,” she said, her cheeks flashing red. “To have everyone’s cooperation. It’s my wedding. This isn’t about you…or her!”

“Then don’t make it about us,” he said. “Go ahead and enjoy it. We aren’t standing in your way.”

“Yes, you are! She’s my planner! She’s supposed to be there taking care of things!”

He lowered his voice, hoping she’d do the same. “The wedding isn’t until tomorrow, Noelle. Everything will be fine. Just…calm down, okay? Your sister doesn’t need you to flip out right now.”

“You’re worried about what she needs? What about me?”

“What about you?” he retorted. “Have you ever stopped to consider how what you’ve done—what you’re doing—might be making her feel?”

She narrowed her eyes at his mussed hair and wrinkled clothes. “I know what she’s been feeling,” she said and stomped away.

*

Olivia was so self-conscious about entering the ballroom more than an hour late, and with Brandon at her side, she could barely stand it. But she couldn’t turn back time. And since Noelle had probably announced that she’d found them together, Olivia saw no benefit in appearing separately. Bringing two vehicles to the rehearsal wasn’t going to fool anyone. She’d actually been glad that, with her nerves in such a riot, she hadn’t needed to drive the steep mountain road from Brandon’s house to town.

The instant they stepped through the door, twenty-four sets of eyes turned in their direction. Kyle’s family. Her family. Lindsey Manelli, Noelle’s maid of honor and best friend. The tight-knit group Kyle had grown up with, including the female members, who were in Noelle’s line because she wouldn’t have had much of a line without them.

Olivia had expected to attract everyone’s attention—the entire party had been waiting for her—yet she still felt her stomach muscles tighten. Brandon, on the other hand, seemed to take it in stride. He smiled as if he was completely relaxed and had no reason to be embarrassed. And he kept his hand at the small of her back, encouraging her to follow his lead.

She tried, but her smile faltered when her father pinned her beneath a disapproving stare. She’d figured her mother would squawk and Noelle would rant and then pout. She’d known their reactions wouldn’t be easy to take—she still had that to look forward to—but this was harder. Unlike her mother, who refused to see her sister’s shortcomings, her father knew Noelle had problems. Although he obviously loved his youngest daughter, Ham often shook his head in disgust when she was being shallow or selfish.

With Olivia, however, it was different. She had always been able to maintain his respect. But with that came high expectations. And she’d just let him down.

Trying not to allow his disappointment, her sister’s angry glare or Kyle’s stony expression to attack her confidence, she apologized to the wedding party at large, without providing an excuse for her tardiness. Then she ran through a brief rehearsal just to make sure everyone was aware of how the ceremony should proceed. Fortunately Abby from the Pullman Mansion had taken over in her absence, so they already knew what she was telling them.

Then they were off to the upscale restaurant in the front of the mansion, where Kyle had booked a private room for everyone to have a steak dinner. The chicken or pasta would’ve been cheaper. Olivia had pointed that out. But Noelle had insisted that she could never serve less than the best at her wedding. And since Kyle was paying for it, Noelle was getting everything she wanted—the most expensive meal on the menu along with some fancy Napa Valley champagne.